With Music
by BatmansBabe
Summary: DG is never getting married, ever, which suits Wyatt Cain very well, since he will deny his feelings for her til his dying breath. But Ahamo and Lurline have other plans.
1. Love Song

**Disclaimer:** Um...pretty self-explanatory. Disclaimers are rarely used when claiming ownership. I own nothing but the plot bunnies who took this supposed one-shot and mutinously stole my fingers for two days and seventeen pages.

**AN: **So I realized I've been completely influenced by quite a few different texts and movies – and maybe someone will catch my Titanic reference. And if you catch the Harry Potter reference I will create a shrine for you and worship you twice every day.

This started out trying to be cutesy and fluffy, but the last book I read was Atonement, and that's hardly light and cute material to work with, so blame Briony Tallis for the tension.

This isn't beta'd, so any mistakes are mine.

_With Music _

_Part One: Love Song_

_head under water/and you tell me to breathe easy for a while_

"I'm never getting married," she announces one day to a room full of people. Advisors stare at her in the way that has become natural to them. DG is exasperating, and they have no idea what to do about their princess and future queen.

Her mother gives her a half-disapproving look, but Cain still vaguely remembers peeking out of his bedroom, his mother and father speaking in low voices about future Queen Lurline and her refusal to marry any number of suitors wanting to court her. And then of the whispers, after her parents died, of her courting a Slipper. So the rest of the look is understanding, though when Lurline glances at him he stares down at his feet and scrubs the image of that little hollow between DG's neck and the blade of her shoulder from his mind. Then, to remind himself, he stares at the worn ring that adorns his finger, and forces his charge out of his mind.

Ahamo just smiles, like this is something he expected from his stubborn daughter – he is amused by the thought of having her to himself as long as possible, as every father must wish for.

Glitch – or Ambrose, because he looks a bit disapproving today, stares down his nose at DG. "Don't be silly, Princess. You'll have to get married someday."

She crosses her arms and shakes her head, and from Cain's spot in the dark shadows of the room, with his hat tipped low over his face and his duster unmoving at his ankles, he notices the cute way her bottom lip pokes out when she pouts.

"Never getting married," she repeats, and for good measure, she hikes up trousered legs onto the table, crossing them at the ankle.

_the breathing gets harder/even i know that_

"He's stupid. I mean, actually, he's really smart, and funny, and handsome, and actually kind of amazing and perfect."

"But he's stupid." Cain forces himself to keep any opinions of the Duke of Whatsit to himself. It's not his place.

He watches DG pluck a flower from a nearby flower bed, and glares at the gardener when the man opens his mouth to reprimand her, and stares in fascination as the princess cups it in her hand and flexes her palm, staring at the blossom in concentration. The bud slowly closes, and then opens. It repeats this for a moment, and then DG loses interest, and turns to him with a smile. She leans forward and presses the blossom onto the lapel of his jacket, and when she lets go it sticks.

He glares, and she merely grins at him and continues as if she had never stopped.

"Okay, so what's really stupid is that I don't like him. I mean, not even a tiny bit. Not even a little. He's like – I don't know, prince charming or something, and every time he gives me that stupid dimpled smile thing that should probably have me swooning all I can think is – I wonder what the weather's like in Kansas right now."

"You must think about Kansas a lot," he replies, remembering how many times he'd wanted to strangle the Duke for that stupid smile.

"Okay, I just meant that – I don't always think about Kansas." Her cheeks tinge, and just the tips of her ears turn red, but he catches it, and can't help but wonder what she _does_ think about, if not Kansas. Probably something he doesn't know about. Or approve of. "The point is," she tells him, her eyes suddenly anywhere but him, "is that he's perfect, and I don't even like him."

"You'll find someone," he says, and his chest tightens at the thought of the day he'll see her eyes light and watch her fall in love with some perfect guy.

She sighs, and stares at a spot just above his hat. "It's so stupid," she says, and it's all he can do not to agree.

_made room for me/but it's too soon to see_

"The thing is," she says one day, leaning against a tree and staining her shirt, her hands, and her lips with a pomegranate she was absolutely ecstatic to find in the woods near Finaqua, "I don't really get this whole courtship thing. It's totally medieval," his brow furrows, but he continues to listen to her and not get the least bit distracted by the way she'll stop in the middle of her sentence to suck out seeds from the fruit he's never actually seen eaten before – one his grandmother had once told him was poison for anything but a Papay. "And, okay, sure, so is this whole matriarchal queenhood thing, and the whole 'consort' deal, but back in Kansas, things are done differently."

He blinks and looks up at her like he's been listening. "What?"

She glances at him and for a moment he's sure he's been caught, but instead she continues, and he stares at her eyes to make sure he doesn't get distracted. "Dating. I mean, I was kind of a tomboy so I guess I didn't date that much, but all this 'princess' and 'highness' stuff is just – well, it's dumb, isn't it? I mean, I'm just DG. In Kansas a guy thought you looked good and he asked you out and you made out in his car for a while after the date and then he tried to feel you up and you knocked his head against the steering wheel and ran into the house. Not all this...pomp. What do I care if Prince whats-his-face has a castle in the mountains and the windows are made out of rare pink diamonds mined by Gillikinese slaves three-hundred years ago? Back on the Other Side those stupid things would be called blood diamonds and no one would be flaunting their origin."

He understands about half of this.

"They attacked you?" he asks, and she cocks her head at him and looks at him with big blue eyes.

"You weren't listening to a word I just said. And they didn't attack me, they just...pushed their boundaries a little. Every girl has to learn how to defend herself against an amorous Kansas boy. Anyway, it helped for when I had to deal with truckers at the Cafe."

"What? What did the truckers do?" He has no idea what 'truckers' are, but the word leaves a decidedly bad taste in his mouth. He thinks of ratty plaid and suspenders.

"Nothin' much, and I could handle them just fine by – the point is dating on the Other Side is very different from courting in the O.Z. And, okay, I guess they're both kind of ridiculous in their own ways, but courting is like... makes me feel like I'm Aurora or Ariel or something."

"Sounds like this is a bit safer than _dating_ in Kansas." He has no idea who Aurora and Ariel are, but if he brings the fact up she'll go on a rant and then he still won't know but he'll be even more confused.

"Except at least in Kansas I could accept or decline. This way I just have to act all... princess-y and pretend to be prim and proper when really what I want to do is tell most of them to just stick it."

Cain needs to write a dictionary. That way anyone who ever has to talk to DG understands what she's saying. He'd probably make a lot of money. It'd be some novelty, to have an Other Sider translation guide.

He wants to tell her that if she ordered the Advisors to stop sending her suitors, they would, by all rights, be forced to stop. But, as always, he is merely a Tin Man turned Royal Guard detail, and she is a princess. There are barriers.

And some barriers can just never be crossed.

_if i'm happy in your hands/i'm unusually hard to hold on to_

"They're teaching me how to dance," she tells him as their horses trot slowly across the meadow towards the mountain trail DG is particularly fond of. Not that anyone but Cain knows that.

"Dance," he repeats, and imagines her being swung gracefully across a marble dance floor by Duke Perfect. Her hair is pulled up and styled beautifully and her dress is ridiculously big and looks ridiculously good on her despite the fact. She is laughing.

"Yeah, like...real dancing."

He turns to look at her, his eyebrow rising. "As opposed to fake dancing?"

She grins. "You know, like..." she shakes her hips back and forth on the horse, and raises her hands in the air, gesturing oddly, then shrieks and grabs the reins tightly as her horse whinnies.

He isn't sure what that was, but whatever it was, it was odd, and fake dancing doesn't seem the right way to categorize it.

"I never was a very good dancer," she tells him conspiratorially, leaning to her left so that he hears her half-whisper.

They are quiet for the rest of the ride, and she watches him dismount with a strange strangled look on her face, then stares up at the canopy of trees for a second. When she looks back in his direction her face is tinged with red.

"Do you dance?"

"Only when forced."

"What if I asked nicely?"

He sighs. "I thought someone was teaching you how to dance?"

"Well, yeah, but I'm not going to dance with him at the ball."

His chest does not tighten at the implication. And when she sort of skips her way over to him and takes his hand, completely invading his personal space, he is not secretly thrilled that she does this, and isn't scared to do it.

Instead of watching her face, he stares at their feet as he tries to remember the steps to the Ugaban Waltz, and most definitely does_ not_ inhale the scent wafting from her hair, and when she stumbles over his toes and presses close to him he doesn't stop breathing for a moment.

Eventually, they get the hang of it, and Cain remembers the steps, and instead of them stumbling around the clearing, Wyatt Cain spins and twirls DG until they are both dizzy and out of breath, laughing at themselves and each other.

It is only afterwards, in the silence of the palace, as he heads to his rooms just off of DG's, that he realizes the last time he danced like that, it was with Adora, and even then there had been music to spurn them on.

_blank stares at blank pages/no easy way to say this_

"Leave me alone!" she yells to her mother, and storms out of the council room. Azkadelia tries to stop her, but she shakes her sister off and screams loudly when one of the Advisors grabs her arm. He's never seen the girl so angry, but he takes off after her, worried what she might do in her state, even though his heart is already racing in his chest and he feels ill thinking about _why _DG is upset.

He follows her through a maze of hallways, watching as she continues to disappear around corners, hair following, whipping behind her, until she slams open the door to her rooms and then, as he is skidding to a stop before them, slams them shut with some kind of magic, because she is already halfway across her room.

"Hey, kiddo, open up," he says after a moment, and taps lightly on the door. He reaches for the handle, and isn't surprised that it doesn't budge.

"I said leave me alone!"

He leans his head against the door, surprised to be included in her anger. "Come on, it's just me."

"Go away!!"

"DG, open the door."

Nothing, this time, which he knows is because now she is crying and doesn't want him to hear the hitch in her voice.

He wishes he weren't the impenetrable Tin Man, but is happy he is, because otherwise he'd probably be doing a little crying of his own – although how it could help alleviate the pain in his chest he's not sure.

"DG," he says again, and then grabs the doorknob again, intent on tearing the thing off in order to get into her room, but to his surprise it opens easily and, because he'd been so intent on force, he swings wildly into the room.

DG's shoulders are shaking, and she's making no noise, so he quickly shuts the door again, locks it like he knows she wants, and then moves over to her. He shuffles across the edge of the bed, sits down next to her. "It's not so horrible as all this," he says, his hand following a path of its own across the bedcovers and across her back to settle at her waist, anchoring her against him.

"They're _f-f-forcing_ me to –." She bites her lip, and brushes her arm across her nose, sniffling. "Cain, they can't make me just _pick_ someone!"

He rubs a circle against her side, and doesn't say a word, because if he does he might overstep his bounds, or upset DG, and either way, it isn't going to help.

"What kind of parents are they? Letting the Advisors just decide I need a husband? What – what kind of person do they think I am that I'm just going to sit here and let them... let them dictate my life? I'm not some fairy tale girl who's going to sit back and let some stupid Councilor arrange a nice little marriage for her and just wait for Prince Charming to come fix everything!!"

Cain clenches his jaw shut.

"I'm not gonna just sit here and let them truss me up in finery and have me pick some pretentious, pompous prince to marry!"

She shoots up from the bed, tripping on a shoe left by it, and then picking the bulky heel up and throwing it angrily across the room, where it hits the door with a satisfying 'thunk.'

"God!!"

Instead of saying anything, Cain merely grinds his teeth together, like a good little guard dog, and imagines a time when he'll no longer be able to enter her room like this, or comfort her like he does when she wakes from a night terror, or go on rides with her and dance to no music in an empty clearing. A time when her husband will be the one doing all that.

And he does not speak, or tell her that she doesn't have to choose one of them. It's just not his place.

_you mean well/but you make this hard on me_

He is leaving DG to her lessons one day, hurrying to meet Jeb because their ride up the trail ran late today, when he crosses paths with Ahamo, and the man greets him smilingly. "Mister Cain," he says, stopping a few feet away from him. "How goes it?"

He tips his hat at Ahamo, who has always insisted he be called Ahamo, and not sir, or highness. "Well, sir," he says, then feels like a teenager. He finds himself twirling his wedding ring around his ring finger with his thumb, and consciously forces himself to stop.

Ahamo nods. "And how's my girl?" he asks, and there is something in the way he says it that makes Cain feel like he's being asked as something other than a bodyguard.

"Probably not enjoying her lessons," he responds, in a way that he is sure can garner no second meaning. "But I'm sure she's fine, other than that."

Ahamo, he realizes, is at least twenty years his senior, and probably more, considering Cain has been in a constant form of stasis for the last nine years, and suddenly he feels unbearably young, and more than a little nervous under the gaze of DG's father.

"Girl's a pistol, she is," Ahamo tells him. "Hope you can handle her."

"Been in charge of her for a while," he responds diplomatically, and Ahamo frowns, a little bit. Cain clears his throat. "Actually, I've been thinking about that."

"Oh?"

"I'm not..." he puzzles over how to word this. "DG and her...fiance," the word stings against the top of his mouth and in his throat, and somewhere else as well, "are probably going to want a new guard once they're married, so..."

"A _new_ one?" Ahamo stares blankly at him, and Cain feels a streak of anger. Like it isn't obvious to DG's father _why_ the future Mr. Gale might not like having Cain around all the time.

"So I thought you might want to have some options open, when...DG decides."

Ahamo now just looks confused. "Options."

"Yeah."

"Well, I guess I'll just let you be the judge of that, right?"

He wants to punch the man, for a moment, but knows that Ahamo is stronger than he looks. "Yeah...maybe."

They are quiet for a moment, and then Cain clears his throat again. "Is there...something you wanted?" he asks.

Ahamo blinks. "I'm makin' you late to something, aren't I?"

Cain says nothing, but Ahamo is already continuing anyway.

"Well, you go on ahead, don't think you gotta stay behind for little old me."

Wyatt nods, says "Sir," then takes off at a trot down the corridor, knowing he strikes an imposing figure with his duster flying out behind him, hoping to catch Jeb before he has to go back to work. And that Jeb doesn't catch on to the anger practically radiating off of him.

_i'm not gonna write you a love song/cause you asked for it/cause you need one_

She really does look beautiful, he thinks, as she crosses her arms over her chest and ignores the tailor who absolutely hates her telling her that he needs to adjust her bodice. "You adjust anything more and I'm going to stop breathing and fall right out of this stupid thing! Which is hard, because there's not much that can fall out!" She gestures to her chest, and he swallows a lump in his throat instead of refuting her claim.

"Really, your Highness, this dress must be finished quickly," the man said. "The ball is in two days!" DG frowns at the mention of this gowns occasion.

The problem is that DG has refused to wear everything else and this dress is a last ditch effort that DG finally liked enough to agree to have a fitting.

"Then finish it and go away," she says, and her voice is commanding and – regal. She's at least learned that in the last year. It doesn't sound quite as primped up and royal as her advisors might like, but it's the way she says it that makes the dressmaker quickly finish pinning and then wave Cain away so he can let DG change.

He returns to the room as the tailor rushes through it, muttering obscenities and glaring at Cain on his way, to find DG leaning against a pillar and staring up at the ceiling.

"You know," she starts, startling him. "I've been living here for a year, and I never even noticed that the ceiling in this room isn't a ceiling."

He glances up and realizes she is right. There are panes of glass far above them, that by some miracle only half let in the light of the O.Z.'s twin suns.

"I've been here for a year and I still don't know anything about this place. And I..." she trails off.

"You have a meeting with the Council in a few minutes," he says in a placating voice, and DG sighs.

"If I ran away, would you be obligated to follow me?"

He watches her drag her feet across the room, and hides his eyes with the brim of his hat. She reads him far too well, though he's sure he hides most of the emotion that involves her well enough. "And bring you back."

She shakes her head and shuffles past him, and something, somewhere inside of him breaks.

_you see i'm not gonna write you a love song/_

_cause you tell me its make or breaking this/_

_if you're on your way/_

_i'm not gonna write you to stay/_

_if all you have is leaving i'm/_

_gonna need a better reason/_

_to write you a love song today_


	2. Interlude: I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Disclaimer:Everything belongs to L. Frank Baum, Sci-Fi, and each actors creation of those characters.

_With Music_

_Interlude: I Wanna Hold Your Hand_

_yeah i'll tell you something/i think you'll understand/when i say that something/i wanna hold your hand_

The day of the ball, they leave the smaller dining hall, Cain two steps behind DG, and he notices that Ahamo and Lurline are watching them and whispering conspiratorially to each other. Already tired of their plans, and aware that all of them are nefariously anti-Cain, he frowns and ushers DG off to her last dance lesson, where, to his immense surprise, DG asks him to stay. Usually, she tells him to go do something for himself, because lessons usually last a few hours and the dance instructor has a burly bodyguard of his own that could probably break a moving bullet – or a renegade Longcoat – in two.

She is to announce, tonight, who she has chosen as her consort. The future producer of heirs. The – he isn't quite sure he can stop himself from punching something, whenever he thinks about it, so he has, for the last three months, not thought about it. He has put someone else on DG duty whenever she is off with one of the the dukes, or princes, or whatever dignitaries are suitable for the future Queen of the O.Z., and has instead spent time with Jeb, who, he forces himself to remember, is only a few years younger than DG.

"...all about it, right?"

Wyatt blinks, stares at both DG and the dance instructor, and realizes after a moment that DG has been talking about him. "What?"

"I was saying that you taught me that...Oobagan –."

"Ugaban waltz," he answers a little too quickly.

"Right, that. Beoro here doesn't believe that a rugged outdoorsy type like you knows such a stiff-neck dance."

He raises an eyebrow at her, and doesn't take the bait. She wants to dance with him, and as much as he is sure he'd enjoy holding her in his arms again, when he hasn't touched her since that day when he comforted her in her room, he knows he will regret it, when later tonight she is dancing in the arms of someone who does not suit her.

"I never said such a thing," Beoro tells Cain, and Cain nods.

"You sure did, mister," she responds, and looks at Cain again, and she knows that he knows what she's doing. Her eyes are big and bright and blue, and for a moment – but only for a moment, he lets himself get lost in them. Then he does a minute head shake. "What if I asked really nicely?" she says.

The problem with listening to the sensible, self-protecting part of him is that that part has no idea what those blue orbs really do to a man. The problem is that the rest of Cain is at a loss as to what to do with those eyes, because there is simply nothing he can do to resist them.

Once again, he doesn't. Within moments of telling himself that he shouldn't, he has stepped forward and taken DG's hand, and slipped into the steps that have haunted him for the past five months.

Before he can begin to wonder why he is here, or what he will do when the dance ends and he takes his final steps out of the princess' life, DG leans into him more than the dance strictly calls for, and he ignores the fact, tightening the hold of his left arm across her back, and before long all that is on his mind is the way the princess shrieks when he twirls her, and the feel of the fabric of her tunic against his very bare ring finger, and the complete and utter sense of trust she exudes when he bends her low, like she has no doubt in her mind he won't drop her. They swirl easily across the floor, and he loses himself in it, forgets everything but their motion and how the mix of it and DG makes him dizzy.

They end their movements abruptly when Beoro clears his throat just a bit too loudly, and for that moment in time his hand does not stray from her back, and her face is maddeningly close to the hollow where his neck and shoulder meet, and he swears her breathing is heavy against his throat and the hand clasped in his own is as clammy as his.

Then, quickly as he can, he clears his own throat and turns away, apologizing as he begs leave and whisks from the otherwise empty ballroom, cursing himself and his reaction to wide blue eyes. He climbs the stairs three at a time, and as he finally makes it to the door, Beoro, below, starts a set of music to dance to.

_i wanna hold your hand/i wanna hold your hand/oh please say to me/you'll let me be your man/and please say to me/you'll let me hold your hand_


	3. Close Up

AN: Here you go!

Disclaimer:Everything belongs to L. Frank Baum, Sci-Fi, and each actors creation of those characters

_With Music_

_Part Two: Close Up_

_is this the feeling of something about to happen/like stepping out of something i didn't realize i was in_

He has always hated wearing a suit. His collar was always a bit too starched, and he never, ever wore ties with anything else, so he barely knew how to knot the damn things, and the truth was, he looked like a pompous ass in a suit and tie.

And he is in no mood to be wearing one now.

Unfortunately, he is going to a ball to celebrate the anniversary of the witch's defeat, and not only is he going to have to be polite and practice the pomp and circumstance he hates, he is also going to watch DG pick a – something. He still isn't exactly sure what it is her parents want from DG, but suffice it to say, he is finally beginning to understand the superiority of _dating_ on the Other Side to _forcing daughters to pick husbands they don't want_ that is the current practice in the O.Z.

With a final glance at himself in the small mirror above his sink, he settles his hand on the gun at his hip once more, and pulls on the navy suit jacket that DG's maid Lucy had pressed for him only an hour before, and that he has already managed to wrinkle, and then, with a final look around the room that will likely not be his for much longer, he starts in the direction of the dining hall.

_was i sleeping?/what?/how could you be so sure/ if you've never been here before?_

He is sitting between Raw and some foreign minister who doesn't speak anything but gibberish, so he picks at his food and glances across the table and down two seats, where DG and Azkedelia are being entertained by Ambrose – or more likely Glitch, tonight, as he is obviously having synapses misfires.

Raw, who has been silent most of the night, touches his arm, and Cain forces himself not to flinch. A moment later, when everyone around them is distracted, Raw, in all his finery – the Viewer's apparently have a very fine tailor of their own – leans closer and looks up at him. "Cain sad," he says, and glances across at the princesses, who are giggling loudly enough to make a few people look disapproving. "Missing DG."

Cain struggles to respond in the negative. "She's right there," he says, nodding at her, and Raw just shakes his head and turns back to his meal.

He pokes at the fish course with his fork, and on his other side the minister mutters something that sounds vaguely rude, and then he glances down the table at Azkedelia as she says his name.

"... DG's favorite subject of conversation is _always_ Wyatt Cain," she tells someone across the table, with a little smirk turning up the very corners of her lips

DG's eyes go wide as they meet his, and her sister winces and reaches instinctively for the toes that have just been stomped on. Directly across the table from DG, a Prince Heroldt leans forward to glance at Cain. "You must be a very faithful friend, Cain," he says, and his voice is perfectly accented. Cain glances at him after they've all gone back to eating, and fights a glare. Or a groan.

The man is young – a few years older than DG at most, with dark hair that is styled just enough not to look wild, and he has broad shoulders and bright green eyes, and after a moment, he says something to DG which makes her laugh out loud.

Cain, feeling like a petulant child, crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, wishing he had his damn hat, and pretending he doesn't see the remonstrative look he is receiving from Queen Lurline.

_i don't understand/it can't be that easy/(i love you, i hate you, i love you, i hate you)/i can't keep my hand off you_

"Well, hello!"

Cain doesn't turn, but Glitch moves to stand next to him, grinning from ear to ear, which is quite likely because he has just finished dancing with Azkedelia, who, for the first time in a year, has worn something quite revealing and bright and...metallic, and who is now shooting covert glances at Glitch from across the room.

"Wonderful evening, wouldn't you say?" Glitch asks, and his eyes follow the twisting movements of the dancing couples. Cain, who has already found DG amongst the couples and is trying to burn a hole into Duke Fethington's head, ignores him. DG laughs at something the duke says, and across the room Azkedelia catches Glitch's eye and startles away from the gaze, her ears turning red. "Wonderful evening, wouldn't you say?"

"I was ignoring you," Cain responds, and Glitch's eyes widen.

"Oh, have I already said that?"

"Mm."

"Well, I've been misfiring a lot tonight, so I'm not surprised. At least I think I've been misfiring." He blinks. "I'm not surprised. I've been misfiring all night."

"You said that already, too."

"Did I?"

"Yep." Despite the fact that Glitch can sometimes try his nerves, Cain likes him. He's kind, and smart, and quirky enough to make DG laugh even when she's miserable. And tonight, Cain can understand why Glitch is misfiring. His mind must be whirring to keep up with his feelings for Az.

Glitch is quiet for a while, and the two old friends – for now Cain realizes he can legitimately call them that – lean against the wall and watch another dance set begin. DG is dancing with the prince from one of the outer realms, and Heroldt is once again capturing her affection. Jeb – he has to take a second look – is dancing with Azkedelia.

"You're not wearing your wedding ring," Glitch notices.

Cain stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Not anymore, no," he says tersely, and hopes that is the end of that. He feels fool enough already.

Across the ballroom, mingling with guests, are Lurline and Ahamo, and as he watches, the Queen looks up and sees him, and her look is one of surprise. She leans close to her husband and whispers something to him, and then Ahamo is glancing worriedly across the dance floor to find his daughter.

Then the couple turns away from him, and are suddenly moving quickly across the room, in heated conference over something he isn't sure he wants to know about. Something in his stomach tightens, and he pushes himself off the wall.

"'Scuse me," he says to Glitch, who smiles that goofy smile at him, and then mutters something that sounds a bit like 'finally,' though Cain isn't quite sure that is it. In only a half dozen steps the crowd of people surrounds him, and the din of noise is slightly overwhelming, as everyone not dancing is trying to make themselves heard over the music.

_(i love you/i hate you/i love you/i hate you)/get back get away from them/it's all wrong_

He makes no friends on his way through the crowd, and receives quite a few shocked 'Oh's and a few more glares to go with, but he finds it easy to ignore them, intent as he is on doing _something_ other than watching DG announce the future king of the O.Z., and by the time he's swum through the mess of people, the song is almost coming to a close. He cranes his neck to find the princess, and finally spots her spinning closer to him on the arm of Heroldt. Cain ducks past two pairs of dancers to reach them, just as the music cuts out, and the couples all around him stop moving. The volume in the room, if possible, increases.

"Mind if I cut in?" he asks, when DG turns to him with a smile, and even as Heroldt takes a genial step backward in acquiescence, the princess reaches for his right hand.

His ears roar a little bit as she takes two steps forward, once again bringing them just a bit closer than any real formal dance was ever meant to be performed.

As his arm swings around to tuck her into his embrace, he appreciates the soft, shimmering translucent silk of her dress, and the way the fabric plunges low at her back, causing his fingers to ghost over soft pale skin, and DG cocks her head in confusion and reaches behind her to grasp at his fingers. He is in sensory overload, as he takes in the barely there flowery scent that is DG, and sees, ornamenting the very top of a cascade of glimmering, curly black hair, an orange blossom just like the one she'd pinned to his jacket, all those months ago, and two thin digits linger over the softer ring of skin on his second to last finger, and then DG swings her hand back around and settles it on his shoulder like her instructor taught her.

They would look every inch the proper dancing partners, if not for the nearly nonexistent space between them.

A lone violin opens the set, sounding mournful and just a little bit jumpy, which matches Cain's mood almost too perfectly, and he accidently steps on DG's foot when he begins a beat before he should.

She barely winces, but he counts the beats in his head this time, and, thankfully, doesn't repeat himself.

A steady piano follows with an entirely different pace, and DG stumbles into him, muttering an apology even as her balances her weight. They both stare at their feet a moment, before Cain finally thinks of something to say.

"How are you?" he asks, and then realizes how much of an ass he is.

Her breathing is a little faster than usual, her voice a little higher. "Oh, you know..." They, finally, both look up, and their eyes catch, and hold. "You?"

He shrugs. "You know." They spin around in tandem with every other dancing pair in the room, and he realizes DG is purposely letting him lead. "How about..." Cain trails off and wishes he had an excuse like 'misfiring synapses'. "...you?" he finishes lamely.

It's awkward and he is probably the stupidest man in the room – maybe in the entire O.Z., but it breaks the ice. DG bites her lip in an attempt not to smile, and, failing miserably, giggles.

"And here I was thinking Glitch was dancing with my sister," she teases softly, and he smiles at her.

"Misfiring synapses is a problem we all face," he says gravely, and then DG hides her face in his jacket. The vibrations of her laughter against the fabric make his heart skip a beat, and he hopes she doesn't notice. Too much.

She reappears a moment later looking composed, and he unconsciously tugs her in closer, continuing a new ballroom dance he didn't even know he remembered, and thinks for a moment of the noble tilt of Adora's chin, and of her dragging tables and chairs out of the way one day, teaching him the steps to dances they only ever did in the privacy of their home, with Jeb watching them over the edge of a chair, or standing on his fathers feet to learn the steps as well. DG straightens her shoulders, pulls up her jaw, and gives him a wide-eyed stare.

They both sober in the face of reality, which is that in two hours she'll have a fiance and he will be out of a job, a friendship, and probably, he'll really lose his heart forever, this time around.

Which is a pity, as it has taken nearly a year to thaw.

_i keep calm for a moment/look in my eyes/get back get away 'cause_

Cain's feet are killing him, which is just a tiny indication of how DG must be feeling. She's been on her feet all night, twirling and spinning and smiling all the while, and her shoes are ten times more uncomfortable than his – which is also saying a lot. The trouble is, he doesn't really mind all that much, because for the last hour, and the last five dances, no one has thought to interrupt the princess and the Tin Man, and he no longer stumbles over every word, each time feeling a twinge of pity for what Glitch-Ambrose must feel every day. DG is telling him about Heroldt, who is madly in love with his sisters lady in waiting and is also a huge fan of Han Solo – whatever that means – which DG thinks is funny and ironic.

The space they had begun with has decimated over the past half hour, and now, as the music softens and slows, and couples begin to take leave of the floor in search of refreshment and air, Cain finds himself in the torturous and favored position of having the future queen of the O.Z. plastered to his chest, her head alternating between the crook of his neck, and craning backward to look at him. His left hand, of it's own accord, has managed to insinuate itself underneath the edge of her dress, and without really even noticing it he's begun to draw patterns across the skin of her waist, moving up and down over the little dip where her ribcage ends and her stomach begins.

If he wasn't convinced before, he now knows for certain he is hopelessly lost and in love with Dorothy Gale the Second, and he knows for certain he _can't_ let her marry anyone who isn't him.

It just wouldn't do.

"Cain?"

Her voice is muffled against the fabric of his linen shirt – he's no idea where his jacket has gone, and he intends to keep it that way – and he lets his head drop a bit. "Mm?" he asks against the side of her head.

"What am I gonna do?" she asks, murmuring into his chest.

He sighs and nuzzles her hair, his nose catching one of the petals of the flower in her hair. "I don't know, kiddo."

He can feel her frown against him, feel the hot breath from her mouth as she exhales, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Lurline and Ahamo, still apparently talking about what they mean to do about him, if the looks on their faces are any indication, and he feels a sudden urgency to _do_ something.

"Maybe you could tell them you're protecting me by not letting me get married." She says this as she turns her head into his body, and the last part is said with her lips grazing his neck.

"Maybe," he tells her, his mind running over every scenario that's gone through his mind in the last half-annual.

The song ends, and another one begins, with a quicker tempo that forces DG to undrape herself from him. The dance floor becomes more crowded, again, as more people return refreshed and ready for something quick and light and fun.

Nearby, Glitch loudly announces – though it is probably only meant for Azkedelia's ears – that he adores the elder princess, and intends to ask Ahamo's permission to court her tomorrow.

Cain suddenly recalls what DG has just suggested. "Wait – what?"

"Az doesn't have to choose a husband, she's not going to be –."

He interrupts her, as the urgency spurs him into action. "What was that part about telling your parents you can't get married?"

The fact that she looks a little confused makes him want to throw something. "That you'd be protecting me?" she asks, brow furrowed.

"From what?" he asks, body tensing, his hand spread flat against her back again, his posture rigid.

"I...what?"

He lets out an impatient groan. "What would I be protecting you from?" he insists.

Her eyes, if possible, widen more than he's ever seen them, and she purses her lips like she's thinking of something, even though she knows already what it is Wyatt Cain might be able to protect her from. Impatiently he clutches her hand more tightly. Now is not the time for her to try out new avoidance tactics.

"DG. From what?"

She uses the hand tucked under his left arm to gesture vaguely at his back. "You...know. Things. Like, um – bad marriages and disappointments and...family estrangement."

Ahamo, he realizes in a panic, is cutting across the ballroom more quickly than Cain likes, making a line straight towards his daughter.

"DG?" he asks one last time, and she bites her lip and blinks back sudden tears in her eyes.

"Or a...broken heart?"

He doesn't think. He doesn't breathe, or imagine the pain he'll feel once Ahamo reaches them and proceeds to beat the living hell out of him – he merely reacts. He closes the distance between himself and DG and he kisses her, enjoying the little mewl of surprise she makes before she reaches up to cup his jaw and return his affections – with fervor.

Spurned on, he drags her into him, fitting her against him, and lets his right hand trail up her arm and across her shoulder blade to that spot where it meets her neck – that horrible, beautiful spot that started this whole mess, and she makes a little noise at the back of her throat when he brushes his fingers against it, so he does it again, and then once more, before he makes a trail up her neck and to the back of her head. Then he anchors her further to him – not that he really needs to, considering how tightly DG is clinging to he collar of his shirt – and angles his head to fit her lips against his own more firmly, and he grabs a little violently at a handful of hair that has fallen loose from the intricate design that had started out the night. DG responds by sifting her hands through the short hair at the back of his head and tugging, which, rather than hurting, makes him press her head closer and tilt his head further, and open his mouth slightly, so that her tongue darts in. He takes that as an invitation, and answers a little moan with a growl of his own, and the hand at her back begins to drift down, over the little dip at the small of her back.

Then someone clears their throat, loudly and directly in Cain's ear, and if it weren't for his hold on both DG's hair and the fabric of her dress he would probably just knock Glitch out cold. As it is, he doesn't even glance at the man, and presses his forehead against DG's, and watches her eyes drift open slowly. They widen as they both realize where her own right hand has drifted to, and though she looks abashed, he takes notice of the fact that she doesn't immediately remove her hand from it's position, and in fact takes her time in letting it drift up to the small of his back.

"Hi," she says, almost too quietly to hear, and Wyatt Cain smiles again. He doesn't think he's ever smiled at anyone as much as he has this slip of a girl who entered his life wielding a stick in hopes of saving him from five Longcoats.

He cranes his neck to press a kiss into the side of her mouth, and continues to ignore the fact that the room has gone quiet and everyone is most definitely staring straight at DG and himself.

DG, taking a deep breath, grins at him, and says in a stage whisper, "Maybe we should keep this our little secret, huh?"

_this could get ugly/if you think that i'll let you go/you're out of your mind_

Wyatt Cain has never really had a large range of emotion, but in the past five minutes he has hit both the highest and lowest point of his life. The highest would be somewhere between the near purr that DG emitted when their lips crashed together and the moment before Ambrose-Glitch interrupted them, when DG had dug her hand into his ass and pressed closer to him, and the lowest is this moment in time, as DG huddles next to him, her arm a sign of solidarity about his waist, her chin defiant, and twelve Advisors and a Queen and consort all staring him down like he is pond scum.

He feels like he is fifteen annuals again, and he's just been caught sneaking into Lyndy Bernadette's bedroom through the second story window.

Or something.

"Do you have any idea what you've just done? _Any _idea what your little display just cost this country? Any idea –."

Queen Lurline raises a hand. "Enough," she says in that commanding voice DG has inherited. Ahamo looks at DG in a way that doesn't really correlate with the fact that he's been trying to get Wyatt Cain out of her life for the past five months. The Advisor opens his mouth to say something to Lurline, and she turns a dark gaze in his direction. There is an audible pop as his mouth closes.

Silence fills the room again, and DG fidgets beside him, then opens her mouth to say something.

The doors swing open and Azkedelia and Glitch swarm through them. DG's sister throws her hands in the air and says "Finally!" in a loud voice.

Ahamo glances up at her and smiles, but Azkedelia is having none of it. She points a long finger at her mother and father, standing as tall as she can, a frown adorning her features, and if Cain hadn't knows her personally for a year, he would think she was channelling a little bit of wicked witch.

"If you don't tell them I will, and then I'll make sure they never have to speak to you again, because they'd be totally right to completely ignore your existence. All you put them through."

DG frowns, and the Advisors frown, and Glitch frowns for a moment before he remembers what the elder Gale girl is talking about, and nods emphatically at Lurline, making sure she knows that he is in complete agreement with her daughter. Definitely not Ambrose tonight, then.

"Your Highness, may I inquire as to what Her Majesty is speaking of?"

DG nods. "Yeah, I'd kinda like to know that too."

Lurline and Ahamo stare at each other in a blind panic before they manage to pull themselves together, and Cain feels the wheels in his head turning, thinking about his conversations with DG's parents, and the looks he's seen them give him and their daughter, and the conferences they've been having and what's been proceeding them, and it dawns on him a moment before Lurline begins to speak.

"My daughter has been madly in love with you for a year, Mister Cain," she begins, and if he hadn't made it clear exactly how he felt just five minutes ago, he is sure DG would deny it instantly. As it is, her hand twitches at his waist and falls a few inches, so she tucks her fingers into the waistband of his suit pants. Off to the side of the party, Azkedelia begins conjuring chairs out of thin air, and one overlarge one digs into the back of Cain and DG's knees, forcing them down onto it. "Ahamo and I watched you for a while, and realized that it would take something more dire than mere heartache to make you admit how _you_ felt, so we devised a plan."

Another Advisor opens his mouth to interrupt, and Cain glances at Princess Azkedelia as the man's mouth snaps shut again.

"I suggested to the Council that it might be time for DG to settle down. Which they all thought a brilliant idea, and, as I knew they would, immediately began inviting every single nobleman they could think of who was of age and still single. As I knew they would."

DG, beside him, bristles, and he reaches for her hand, trying to soothe her. The truth is, he is probably angry as hell, because he knows where this is going, and he's always hated being a pawn. But all of his emotion for the day has been spent on terror and panic and heartache and the current brimming joy that has him completely unable to actually _feel_ angry.

"Now, I supposed it would take you all of a few days and a simpering nobleman or two to admit to my daughter how you felt about her, as it was quite obvious to the rest of us, but you didn't. So I made an executive decision to firmly ingrain in the Council's mind the _need_ for a husband. At which point, as you know, the Advisors decided to enforce an ancient law that I am personally intent on removing from every part of the O.Z. Although I had been quite intuitive up to that point, I was blissfully unaware that my Council would stoop to such lows as that, and for that I am sorry."

Wyatt grasps DG's hand as her face tightens and her body tenses.

"Had I known the pain it would put the both of you through, these past months, I would have let you continue on, blissfully denying the fact that you were in love again, Mister Cain."

DG, it seems, can take no more. "You put me through _hell_!!" she cries. "I've been miserable for months and months, and you knew it! And you just sat back and waited for the show?!"

"Angel, I –."

"No! No, I am _not _your angel, and I definitely do not feel like acting like one. _Hell_, Lurline!" DG has been trying very hard to call the Queen 'mother' in the past year, but it seems, in the face of her anger, she's entirely forgotten that fact. "God, I thought I was gonna end up married to some fat old duke who sent Cain away the moment he met him and left me miserable and alone for the rest of my freakinglife! I almost ran away because of this whole mess, and then none of you would have found me, ever, because I would never have brought Wyatt and I probably would have gotten killed by renegade Longcoats before anyone even realized I was missing!"

DG deflates a little and sinks lower into the chair again, and, though he probably should be upset that it is the situation that made her do it, he can't supress the warmth that spreads through his chest when she calls him 'Wyatt'. She carefully leans into his shoulder, obviously conscious of the other people in the room, and then the room is silent.

Finally, Ahamo coughs discreetly, and then sighs. "Well." He stands, and turns to look at a few of the Councilors. "Seeing as we won't be announcing any betrothals tonight, I'm sure there's a last dance that some of us are keen on being involved in." The look he sends both Glitch and Cain is definitely more than a little protective, and even as a few of the more courageous Advisors protest, Cain reaches for DG's hand and tucks it against the bend of his arm, nodding a goodbye to a smiling Azkedelia.

Glitch winks at DG, and then tries to look stern and intimidating when he glances at Wyatt, and since he is Glitch, and not the slightly intimidating Ambrose, Cain just rolls his eyes.

_timeless/love is a cure/a promise/still so pure/rise like the tide/no need to hide/fearless/just like before/oh/here we go/they're all waiting for a cure/breathe in/and let go_

DG is shooting him covert looks through the curtain of hair that she's been using to hide her face the entire ride, and once again, he ignores her in favor of wracking his brain for what she might be up to. There is no doubt in his mind that she is _up to_ something, because otherwise she wouldn't bother to be secretive about what she wants and why exactly she threw a temper tantrum when one of the Advisors suggested another guard be put on her (Thankfully, he didn't get the time to explain _why_ he wanted another guard put on DG, which was that Councilor Togothorn had walked into the library ten minutes after DG's history lessons, wondering exactly where the princess was, and instead of finding a studying princess he'd found DG on top of Cain on one of the couches, and before DG could bother to explain that it was _just kissing, _Togothorn had started in on them and threatened to have Cain castrated. Which in hindsight he knows wouldn't exactly have worked, because DG would most definitely have a few problems with that, but at the time made him seriously consider finding a new guard detail for the princess). She's up to something, and for the life of him, Cain cannot figure out what it is.

He tries to remember anything that might aid him in figuring it out before she enacts her plan, but all he can think of is the look Azkedelia had shot her sister over breakfast this morning – a tiny grin and then back to her eggs as if nothing had happened. What had been said? Something about...fighting with the Council again. Or maybe...

DG suddenly spurns her horse forward and takes off at a gallop up the hillside, so Cain moves after her, his white horse excitedly chasing after it's fellow, up the trail into a very familiar clearing.

Oh.

DG is already halfway off of her horse when he reaches her, and is grinning at him. "Guess what?" she asks, her eyes holding his, an arm digging into the breast pocket of her jacket.

He raises an eyebrow at her and throws a leg over the saddle, dismounting smoothly.

She does a little spinning hip movement, still trying not to smile too much, hiding whatever it is she's found in her pocket. He finds her painfully beautiful, even in her tattered trousers (somehow a year and a half after entering the O.Z. she still has the same pair of high waisted blue things made out a some material he's never seen before, and that showcase her perfect, pert little behind) and her softly worn shirt, and a leather jacket that she'd had made first thing when the tailor had begun fitting her, so long ago, and looks a bit too much like his own duster. Her eyes, almost green today under the soft light breaking over the canopy of the trees above, sparkle with happiness and something else he would categorize as love, if he were so inclined.

Finally, with a sigh, he responds, "What?"

"I said _guess_," she tells him, and the tips of her teeth peek out from under her top lip.

"I hate guessing games." He tethers his horse loosely to a nearby log, knowledgeable of the fact that she is staring at his backside as he bends over.

His horse, which she has lovingly nicknamed "Millennium Falcon" for no apparent reason, nudges the side of his face affectionately. She refuses to tell him why his horse has been given such a confusing name, and has convinced Prince Heroldt (a surprisingly likable guy, now that he knows for sure isn't gunning for DG's hand, and who Cain can commiserate with being in love with someone he probably shouldn't), who knows _exactly_ why and finds immense amusement in it, not to tell Cain either. He stands again and looks up at DG, and she impatiently sighs.

"You're no fun," she tells him, and then crosses her arms over her chest and refuses to say anything. Glinda above, she is so damn _stubborn_ sometimes.

"Are you renouncing the crown and running off to become a member of De Milo's act?"

She grinds her teeth together, and then rolls her eyes at him. "My _dad_ is the carnie in the family, thank you very much."

"Changing your name to Dorothea?"

She looks like she's contemplating throwing something at him. "I hate you."

He grins and leans against a nearby tree. "Hey, I've always told you I suck at guessing games."

DG frowns at him and starts to push her hand, and whatever was in it, back into her pocket, so he takes three steps forward and throws an arm around her waist, dragging her into him.

"Alright, what?" he asks, his voice lowering from it's teasing one, sounding a bit more gruff than he means it to, and DG's eyes kind of glaze over for a moment as they both remember what that voice had whispered against her ear that morning.

He shakes her a tiny bit to get her focus back, and she glares at him, and then tries to hide another oncoming smile. The corner of her mouth tips up. "Nothing. You obviously don't want to know."

He reaches for her jacket pocket and she smacks it away in a way that doesn't actually seem playful. "Hey," she says in that reprimanding, regal voice she usually saves for Advisors. "Don't!"

Confused, he lets his hand drop, and starts to back away, but DG has managed to situate her hand in the waistband of his trousers, and she tugs him back into her. She shows him the small object in her hand, and then smiles at him.

"What is that?" he asks, and she takes a step back, places the object on the ground, and raises a hand over it, biting her lip in concentration. He watches as it grows into a phonograph, the horn looking sparkling in the shaft of light hitting it from one of the suns, far above.

She waves a hand across it, and the vinyl record in it begins to spin, and the horn sounds a little crackling noise before a few strings open up the song. DG glances up at him, eyes wide and innocent, and Wyatt can't help but shake his head. "You're such a sneak," he says, but strides forward and pulls DG into his arms. She tucks one hand neatly in his and places the other on his shoulder, and Cain bends forward to kiss her forehead a moment before they begin the steps of the dance.

When they are both dizzy and out of breath, and the music has long fizzled out into mere scrapes against the record, they settle onto the ground, cuddling together under a beam of sunlight, sitting quietly and watching a soft breeze settle into the leaves of the trees, Cain tries to imagine what might have been. He thinks of where he would be, while DG prepared for her coronation and wedding. Perhaps locked in the Tin Man precinct, or fighting renegade resistors at the edge of the O.Z., or drinking himself to death in a dingy bar somewhere in the Realm of the Unwanted. But the images are fuzzy and unreal, and they garner no real feeling from him – he can't imagine what he'd feel, what his surroundings would look like. He is far too invested in the reality of his life, which is DG squirming in his arms, her hand squeezing his thigh, while she breathily hums a tune he doesn't know.

"I think we should get married," she says, and Cain continues to watch her spin a cyclone of leaves up from the forest floor. Then he starts.

"What?"

She is sitting up, and he vaguely catches the twister of leaves drop to the ground. "I think," she says, digging into her breast pocket again, reaching for something else, "that we," she pulls out whatever she has been looking for, and he realizes with a start that it is a _ring_, a circular, almost but not quite silver, shining _ring, _"should get married."

He stares blankly at her. "What?"

"Oh my god, if you say _what _again I'm going to have someone install a zipper in your head. I said, I think we should get –."

He kisses her, crushing her against his chest, and she digs her hand into his hair, and he feels her little moan thrum against his tongue. His hand sweeps across her back, and he traces her jaw line, and buries a hand into the hair and the back of her head and pulls her closer to him.

They break apart when they can no longer hold off breathing, though seem to inhale an exhale the same air, as close as they are, and it takes perhaps a few moments too long to catch their breath. Finally, DG reaches for his hand and presses the ring into it, and grins at him, and he realizes what Azkedelia and DG had been talking about this morning at breakfast. Glitch and Az's _wedding plans_.

"So I take it that's a –."

He drags her into him again and presses a lingering kiss against her lips, breathing out a 'yes' as he strums a finger across the ring and slips it onto his finger. She kisses him again, slipping her head out of his grasp to grace his face and neck with tiny, butterfly kisses, and then leans up to look at him, and he captures her lips for a longer one, and by the time they exhaust themselves of this, both of them are panting and their lips are swollen, and DG has a neckless of red splotches on her neck that will have to be covered for the next few days.

"You know," he says, reclining against the trunk of a tree, with DG's nose pressing against his neck, "I'm pretty sure I was supposed to ask you," he says, fingers drawing vague designs across the small of her back.

DG pulls back and stares at him. "Wyatt," she begins, "it took you a year to _kiss_ me, and that was with the threat of my marriage to someone else."

Well. He'll give her that.

"Besides," she says, "I said I was never getting married. Why would you ask me when you knew that?" Then she kisses him again.

Later that day he receives an excited hug from Az, and an eager handshake from Glitch, who congratulates him four times and then introduces himself as "Glambrose" before shaking his head and congratulating him once more. He writes Jeb a short note and sends it off with an annoying messenger he knows will only get on his sons nerves, but will definitely amuse his men, and then escorts DG to a meeting with her Advisors, and when DG announces that she is getting married, they are all in an uproar.

They are convinced that this is the worst administration the O.Z. has ever been under, and it is unheard of for any one generation of royals to marry out of their sphere (completely forgetting the fact that Ahamo is, in fact, a Slipper from Nebraska) and now they have, on their hands, not only one previously possessed princess about to marry her mothers closest Advisor, but their future queen is affianced to a Tin Man.

From his position against the wall, with his hat tipped low over his face, DG catches his eye, and bites back a grin. Lurline smiles softly at him, and he ignores the Advisor clinging to one last misbegotten hope ("But I thought you were never getting married, Princess??") and takes in DG's face, and twirls the silver ring around on his finger, and imagines DG walking towards him through the little walkway that leads to their clearing, decked out in white tulle that she hates, smiling at him, and then kissing her fathers cheek and taking his hand, muttering an "I do" against his lips as he claims her, _finally, _as his own.

There is, truly, no image that could surpass it.

_i've seen how you crawl/flicker and hover/still changing colors/but nothing can break this calm/oh/here we go/they're all waiting for a cure_


End file.
